Our Memorial Day weekend plans were packed with activities. We took Friday off so that my wife and two girls and I could beat traffic heading north out of the Twin Cities and so we could spend some additional time together. My sister-in-law’s family had invited us to their cabin on a chain of lakes for the long weekend, and after our head start, they joined us on Friday night. Normally on these long weekends, I like to relax and avoid running from one activity to the next, but this time I got caught up in the flow.
We went for a walk. Played on the beach. Watched as our 5-year-old persuaded our 2.5-year-old to ease into the frigid waters. Watched in awe as a bald eagle soared to and from and high above its nest. Took plenty of golf cart rides. Fished off the dock. Went for a boat ride. Took our nephews skiing and wakeboarding. Fished from the boat. Went shopping in town. Raced go-carts. Went out for pizza. Played on the swing set. And the list goes on and on.
Frankly, it’s enough to make me tired just reminiscing. It’s probably enough to make you want to stop reading. But, back at home, as I lay with my youngest daughter as Memorial Day came to an end, I asked the question (although slightly modified) that I ask my kids every night I put them to bed: What was your favorite part of the weekend?
My expectation for the answer was the golf cart rides. Or the candy store. Or the numerous games we played. But to the best that she could muster while lying down, she wiggled a little dance and sang a one-line song: “Goin’ for a boat ride.” And just like that, the world has another boater.
I’m leaving early today to get my boat ready for tomorrow. Have a great weekend.